Pets
Your cat regards you with contempt
I fear I must concur
You are the one who brought
Home this foul attitude with fur
Perhaps she'll let you stroke her
On second thought she shan't
She'd rather leave a thousand
Tabby hairs on your wool pant
She goes straight from the litter box
Up on the kitchen table
Not because it is convenient
But just because she knows she's able
She will not do a thing you ask
Your breath is better saved
For she is the great master
And you are just her slave
Your dog thinks you're an idiot
I can not but agree
He does not do a lick of work
And lives with you for free
And thrice a day you take him
Outside for a little walk
And urge him to evacuate
His bowels with baby talk
And when he does you greet it
With much fanfare and great joy
You pat him on his furry head
And call him a good boy.
He watches as you bag it
Gather every precious slug
He thinks next time he'll save the trip
And leave it on your rug
Your choice of pets historically
Has been one big mistake
I recommend the next time
Pick a goldfish or a snake
Something you can feed or not
Something that does not shed
Something that you can flush away
When finally it is dead
Or even just because
You're going to be away a week
Though flushing a live boa
Is not something for the meek
Or you could get sea-monkeys
A jam jar is all you need
Then again, a potted plant
Is probably more your speed